Released
by MaraJade31
Summary: Prequel to Ghost Rider movie. How did Blackheart escape from Hell? Who helped him, and what are his connections with a mortal girl named Cassandra? Blackheart,OC pairing.
1. Prologue: Father and Son

Author's Note: This takes place before the movie, explaining how Blackheart escaped from Hell. I haven't read the comics, so this is just MY VERSION. Please no offense to the hardcore fans out there. J

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost Rider, or its characters and am making no profit off of this story. It is merely for my own amusement as well as that of others.

* * *

Prologue

Blackheart leapt from rock to rock in the pits of Hell. His blue skin glistened from the exertion and the fires which surrounded him. Lava spewed up and rained down, filling the pools and stirring the heat.

Crouching down, Blackheart's claws dug into the stone he had just landed upon. Below him by several hundred feet, he could see Mephistopheles. How he hated his father and his ways.

"Son," said the elder demon, as he turned around slow, his eyes gradually making their way up the rock.

Without hesitation, Blackheart jumped down and landed hard on all fours right before Mephistopheles. He gazed up at the demon god, his body straightening until he was taller than the one who had created him. "Father," he said with his many sharp teeth glaring in distaste of the word.

"I can only assume," began Mephistopheles, "that you have come about the contract of San Venganza."

Blackheart growled, his deep throated roar echoing with the evil that resided within him. "I know that you are searching for it," he said.

Mephistopheles nodded and began to walk around his son. "If you are coming to volunteer, I will not accept."

Blackheart's eyes seemed to grow darker, but he made no other indications of being angry. "Like I would ask for your permission!" he scoffed. "I have found my own way out of this Hell you call home and will make a new one that will eliminate you and the innocent." He sneered. "Your time is almost up, old man."

Mephistopheles shook his head and stopped before Blackheart. "You do realize the measures I would be willing to take should you escape. That contract is _mine_."

"We will see," answered Blackheart smugly, before he vanished from sight.


	2. Chapter One: Connection

Chapter One

Cassandra Mullens was not amused. In fact, she hated the very idea of amusement. Bright and cheerful, or as her mother begged her to be, perky, were not her. There was just something inside of her that would not allow her to be the happy Barbie Doll everyone wanted her to be. She had always been stubborn in that way, and now here she sat, _completely_ annoyed. Charlie Jenkins, her constant reminder that life sucked, was at her door.

"This better be important," she said through black painted lips.

Charlie smiled and tried to make eye contact, but seemed to think better of it and resorted to staring at his feet instead out of obvious nervousness.

"Well…" said Cassandra, rolling her eyes. "Now that you've forced me to do the whole social thing and step out into the light of day like a normal girl, can I go now?" she asked, her dark brow lifting sharply.

Charlie raised his head, now finding his nerve.

He was a clean cut kind of guy, but fell mainly into the "geek" category, as the ever brilliant idea of cliques went. He was nice and all - Not that Cassandra cared. She had absolutely no attraction to him, but yet he incessantly tried to convince her that they were dating. This she hated.

"Cassie, I want you to go to the prom with me. Now I won't take no for an answer. I know I've asked you seven, well eight if you count that time-"

"Charlie!" she interrupted, holding up a hand which was adorned with two silver rings. "No. Do I look like I would even belong at a prom?" she asked, referring to her long, gothic dress. It was pure black with a corset that had a sheer black material covering a blood-red fabric.

"I'm not exactly sure I wouldn't kill the prom queen with the Kool-aid…" she added, as an after thought.

Charlie chuckled. "Why do you say that? You always say that. Just this once, come and take a chance…" He looked at her pleadingly and she was compelled to retreat, or wish for a piano to drop from the sky.

"Chances are for those who have something to hope for," she said, grimly.

Charlie frowned. "Just… think about it. I'll be over for dinner."

"Why?" she asked, perplexed.

"I'm cooking for you. It's our anniversary."

"Charlie, we aren't dating."

"If I believed that every time you said it, I'd have no hope either," he said softly, before giving a weak smile and starting down the steps from the porch.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and shut the door hard.

"Who's there?" called a newly awoken grandfather from his rocker, who had been in the midst of a snore.

"Don't worry, it wasn't the Grim Reaper," she said, walking immediately up the stairs.

Closing herself in her room, Cassandra sighed and sat on the bed. Her green eyes looked down toward the Ouji Board, which lay in the center of her.

"When did I take that out?" she asked herself, standing and walking to stand over it. She had not used the board in a week.

Since childhood she had had an affixation for the dead and morose. At school she had been labeled as goth and emo, but she had refused to associate with those crowds, just as she avoided everyone else… except the deceased.

Lowering herself, Cassandra reached out for the pointer to pick it up, but before she even touched it, it jumped away from her.

Stepping back abruptly, she gasped and stared at it with wide eyes. That had _never_ happened before.

"Hello?" she said, stepping toward the game. The pointer moved to cover the word "Hello" all by itself and Cassandra felt an excited chill.

"Who is this?" she asked.

The cursor did not budge.

Confused, she looked around the room and then knelt down to touch it, but nothing happened. Disappointment filled her and she let out a tired sigh.

"Guess it wasn't Casper the friendly ghost," she said to herself, tucking the game under her bed.

Standing, she suddenly felt something like fingers inside her mind. She winced and held her head, placing one hand on the bed to keep herself steady. Whispers started to swirl around, growing louder, but not understandable in the least, except… for one voice.

"Do you really want to know who I am?" it asked.

"Yes," she answered in her mind, her heart racing. Whoever this was, he was powerful and his voice made her tremble, but for what reasons she was not sure.

"My name is Blackheart, and I am going to rule your world."

"Why come to me?" she asked.

"You are the one who is going to set me free."

Cassandra opened her eyes and in them was reflected the image of Blackheart. She dropped to one knee, feeling weakened.

Blackheart spoke again. "Your reward will be great," he went on. "Cassandra… I have been watching you. You will find me a body. A human male. A virgin. Sacrifice him in my name and I can again walk this world."

"Why should I help you?" she whispered, forgetting that he was only in her head.

Blackheart chuckled once and paused for a second. "You were once like me, a demon. My father punished you by demoting you to mortalhood. Surely you have felt that you… don't belong."

Cassandra did not answer.

"Find me a sacrifice, Cassandra, and I will restore your power."

After these final words, the pressure inside her mind vanished, sending her to the ground and leaving her in a deep, troubled sleep.


	3. Chapter Two: Choices

Chapter Two

Cassandra awoke with a start to the cool night wind blowing around her like a spirit. She was still on the floor of her bedroom and huddled into the fetal position for warmth. Cold and shivering, she forced her body to sit up and in confusion she touched her aching head. A wince consumed her features and she found the tiny bump, which had formed from her fall.

What had happened?

Before the memories could resurface, her eyes caught sight of something strange; something which iced her very soul. Her window was open.

Night had arrived while she had been dreaming and the black curtains billowed in the breeze. She did not remember opening the window. She hated having it open and always had the curtains drawn to keep out the light and the world. So who had opened it?

Her mind was filled with memories of the occurrences just before she had blacked out and she jumped up and hurried to the window, expecting to find some sort of sign, or the demon himself.

The curtains suddenly stopped blowing and fell still. Cassandra could feel her heart beating faster and she peered her head out the window. There was nothing but the front yard. The large, thick tree, which had been abundant with leaves when she'd returned from school earlier that day, was now bare. Its leaves lay on the ground, shriveled and dead, like the grass beneath and around them. Cassandra's eyebrows knitted closer together and the window slammed shut.

Turning about to go turn on the light, she heard the creaking and slip of the window opening from behind her, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing. Cassandra stopped and slowly reached for her satchel, which lay on a chair beside her.

Spinning around, she swung it at the window blindly and heard a scream, one which sounded very familiar.

Immediately she dropped the bag and hurried to flick on the light. Her eyes instantly spied two human hands holding to the bottom of the windowsill and a ladder leaning against it. Her eyes rolled in annoyance and disappointment at what she had found.

Cassandra sighed and walked to the window. She would have preferred the Devil himself.

"Charlie, what do you want now?" she asked him, glancing at her bedroom clock. It was 7:13 at night. "If you're trying to get yourself killed, allow me to help."

Charlie was kicking his feet, which kept slipping off the steps of the ladder from his wet and muddy shoes since the lawn had just been watered by the sprinklers. He strained and pulled himself up, finally getting his footing.

"I'm here for dinner. Remember?" he asked with a smile, climbing through her window without invite. His head accidentally smacked the top of the window frame and he fell into the room with a thud. Cassandra rolled her eyes.

"I'm not hungry," she said, sitting on the bed, not offering to help him. She couldn't get that voice out of her head…

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, rubbing his head. "You don't look yourself."

"Maybe you're finally seeing me for what I am?"

Charlie scrunched up his face, as he picked himself off the floor and sat beside her. "What do you mean?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," she said.

Charlie chuckled. "You're always so melodramatic." He became silent for a few moments. "…Cassandra? You can tell me anything, you know."

"I can tell no one nothing," she answered, standing to get away from Charlie. "You should go home."

He looked at her quizzically for some time, before shaking his head. "No. I'm not going anywhere. You don't really want me to leave. I know people like you. What you really want is someone to love you, well, Cassie, I can do that," he said, placing a hand over his heart.

Cassandra glared in disapproval. "If I wanted love and devotion, I'd get a puppy. Now go." She turned to leave her room, but he grabbed her hand. She yanked it away and he stood.

"Do you just like pain, or something? Why are you the only one I can't get rid of?" she snapped. "Am I some sort of sick idea to you?"

Charlie looked hurt. "No… I just…" He looked at the floor.

"You what? For once just say it. I'm sick of you being the coward that you are. I'm sick of everybody. No one is who they say they are. They're all fakes, going about their days pretending to be what everyone expects, well I can't do that. I won't! So say it, Charlie. Just fucking say it!"

Charlie looked at her with wide eyes and gulped. She could see she'd upset him, but she didn't care. She wouldn't have even cared in the slightest bit more had he been a puppy. Her mind drifted to Blackheart's words… She was a demon too… Was this why she was the way she was?

"I love you," said Charlie with sad eyes, stepping back a foot from her.

Cassandra shook her head. "Love is an idea created by the weak and those so filled with bullshit and fantasies they can't see the truth."

"Then what is the truth?" he asked, finally seeming to get a tinge of anger in his voice. Cassandra wanted to smile, but that would have stood out so blaringly on her features, just as if she were to wear bright pink dresses.

"Hearts break if you use them. I shut mine off long ago."

Charlie shook his head. "You don't know what you're missing then."

Folding her arms, Cassandra said, "Go home, Charlie."

He nodded and threw his arms in the air. "Fine. If that's what you want." He walked to the window and when he was on the ladder, he looked across the room to her. "Goodnight."

Now alone, Cassandra plopped upon her bed and began to cry. Tears poured from her green eyes and she wiped them and her cheeks repeatedly. She was so alone, and she didn't belong here. She knew it. That voice had been right. Whoever Blackheart was, he was the only one who knew her, and her heart actually ached, her very blood pulsed for him to be free again. She needed to know what she truly was. She couldn't live this life any longer.

Standing, Cassandra walked to her dresser and opened the top drawer. She pushed aside the undergarments until she found it; her silver dagger.

Picking it up, she looked at its hilt with the skull at the tip and the bones of a human decorating the rest. She pulled it from the sheath and turned her head to the window. The curtains were blowing again and she felt the coldness in the room. She would have to kill. All she needed was a virgin.


	4. Chapter 3: Fear and Devils

Chapter Three

* * *

Having hidden the dagger in one of her knee high boots, Cassandra made her way down the stair, which creaked with her weight. Her heart sounded louder in her ears, however, and she walked as though in a trance down the staircase until she reached the bottom. Her hand went for the doorknob, but the voice of her grandfather pulled her back.

"Where're you going in such a hurry?" he asked her, looking over his shoulder from his chair.

"Out," she said, looking bored.

"Well when will you be back," called her mother from the kitchen.

"Never," said Cassandra, opening the door and letting it slam behind her. Strangely at that moment, all the streetlights and the various other lightings on the houses and yards went out. Cassandra just assumed it was a power outage and took one step, before bumping into a man.

Startled, she covered her heart and jumped back with a gasp.

"Sorry. I seem to have that effect on people…" said the man in a deep and calm voice.

Cassandra noticed the cane he held with a crystal skull, as dark clouds formed above from out of nowhere. She could hear the rumble of thunder.

"Who are you?"

"That is not important," said the man, walking to her left slowly with the help of his cane. "What is, is that you have decided to help my son."

Cassandra's eyes went to slits and she was confused. "Your son? I don't know who you mean."

"Cassie… Cassie…" he said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't lie to me. I have far more power than you could ever imagine."

"Tattling to my parents isn't gonna scare me," she retorted. A man his age who needed a cane couldn't possibly be any threat to her.

The man smiled and lightening flashed in the sky. For a moment Cassandra swore she saw sharp, needle-like teeth reveal themselves in the man's jaws and she blinked. They were gone.

"Blackheart is not the only one who can restore your powers…" he said. "What if I could… help you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, suspiciously. Something told her that this man could not be trusted.

"I can make you strong, as you once were. My son offers what he is yet able to do," replied the man with another smile and walking behind Cassandra. He whispered into her ear, "But I am more. I know what you really want."

Cassandra pulled away and spun about to face him. "Get away from me!" she cried defensively. "You don't know anything about me." If this man got any closer, she was considering taking out her knife.

He chuckled and advanced on her slowly. Consequently, Cassandra backed up. "Do not be frightened. I know your true nature. It was I who created you."

"What?"

The pressure in her mind from before quickly consumed her thoughts and she heard Blackheart speaking to her again. _Hold out your hand and point to the lights._

Cassandra held her head and shook it. The man looked worried and tried to reach out for her, but she stumbled backwards, feeling dizzy.

_Do it!_

Feeling a tingling sensation in her fingers, Cassandra lifted her arm and aimed it at the nearest streetlamp. Lights sparked on all along the street and dogs were heard howling and barking. The man covered his eyes and grimaced just as Cassandra shut her eyes to stop the dizziness.

Slowly the noises died down and Cassandra opened her eyes to find that the man was gone, along with the dark and thick clouds and thunder. The lights hummed with energy and the dogs were silent. She was all alone.

"Blackheart?" she whispered. There was no reply. Had she imagined it? Who had that man been?

A man on a motorcycle went riding by, the sound of the bike startling her.

"Okay… You need to get a fucking grip, Cassandra," she said to herself. She was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into, but she found that she trusted Blackheart. He had just protected her.

More determined now than before, she headed for the house across the street; Charlie's house.

Mephistopheles glared in the depths of Hell at his son, as fires blazed and lava oozed like an open wound.

"You should not have interfered," he said with his calm inflection.

Blackheart scoffed. "She is not yours any longer. The girl is mine! You cannot stop me, Mephistopheles. Soon this world and the next shall be mine and there will be nothing you can do about it."

Mephistopheles growled deeply in his throat. "You almost make me proud, if only you were not so foolish."

It was now Blackheart's turn to glare. "You created me… Father," he said with bitterness on his tongue at the name. "This is what I was made for. You are only jealous that your time has come to an end. When I escape, you will suffer."

"If you escape, you know what I will be forced to do…"

Blackheart smiled, his sharp teeth bearing. "I have no fear of your rider. The end of days is coming, Mephistopheles, and it starts with me."


End file.
